


Stay With Me

by aishjinjaa



Series: Love Letters [2]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, M/M, Polygamy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-20 08:54:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13714284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aishjinjaa/pseuds/aishjinjaa
Summary: seungcheol can't stay any longer-





	Stay With Me

Jeonghan had just discarded his second cigarette of the night when he spots a familiar figure dancing in the sea of people, swaying his hips in the way he knows Jeonghan loves, politely declining anyone who offered him a dance, begging for just a fraction of his time—everybody does. He may not notice it but as soon as he wore those sinfully skin-fitting jeans and pushed his hair back, every single person in the club had been willing to get down on their feet just to be chosen. He was magnetic—every movement in the club was directed towards him; just to impress him. But Jeonghan knew, none of them would be coming home with him tonight. He walks towards the bar, some of the clubbers’ attention turning to him, but he kept his eyes on one person, oblivious to the attention Jeonghan has been giving him.

Without looking away, Jeonghan ordered two shots of vodka, his eyes feasting on his magnificent view. His back was to him, absently swaying to the music while he laughed with his friends, throwing his head back, exposing the neck Jeonghan has been so addicted to. He reaches over to the shots of vodka, downing them both at the same time, pumping himself with liquid courage.

“Damn.” A male voice comments from his left, looking over him with interest.

He politely declines, saying he has another target for that night. “The silver-haired, hottie?” he chuckles, unbelieving. He looks at him from head to foot, studying him. “Nah, I don’t think you can. You’re hot and all, but he’s been declining every single offer. I don’t think you’ll be an exception, hot-ass.” Although he didn’t appreciate the blatant name calling, he managed to hold his remarks in, saving it all for the satisfaction of proving him wrong.

He saunters over, gently pushing those who were in the way, keeping his eyes on one goal. He puts a finger over his lips when Mingyu notices him, a mischievous glint shining from his eyes. “You’re here.” He whispers quietly into his ear, pulling him by waist against him, swaying gently with him.

“Hi.” He half-turns, looking at him in the eye and smiling brightly. Jeonghan basks in his eyes, clear and alert, but also both warm and hot. “You’re here.” He reiterates, fully turning toward Jeonghan. He spins them both around, making sure the man from before can see the smug look in his face. “Well, I told you I was going to be.”

“Probably. You said you were probably going to be here.” He wraps an arm around Jeonghan’s waist, and he can feel every single eye turn to him. “Well, I wanted to see you.”

Seungcheol’s smile fades, but it comes back right away, pulling Jeonghan in for a quiet peck on the lips. “I did, too.” Jeonghan’s breath hitches, but he tries to calm it, not wanting to blast him with his cigarette breath. He reaches over to cup his arms, running his palms along his biceps, feeling them as he danced with him. “I almost didn’t recognize you with the silver hair.”

Seungcheol combs over his hair consciously, peeking shyly at him. “I just thought it would look good.” He bites his lips, making it so difficult for Jeonghan to keep his calm. He chuckles, amused at his own lack of control. “Oh…” he bites his lips, successfully preventing himself from saying anything crass or offensive. “It looks good, alright.”

“So you like it?” he ruffles his own hair, making some of the strands shine in the light. He nods absent-mindedly, running up his hands from his arms, to his shoulders, neck, entangling his fingers with his hair, before gently tugging on the strands lightly, loving the soft, damp locks against his skin. “I love it.”, he nods, looking intently onto the others’ eyes.

He leans forward, weak to Seungcheol’s scent, pressing his nose against the juncture where his neck meets his shoulder, and kisses it gently, weirdly affectionate. “What’s up with you?”

“I haven’t seen you in 2 weeks.”

“Well, you could have just gone to someone else, then, if you wanted someone to fuck.” He chuckles so good-naturedly, Jeonghan almost missed the bitterness in his tone. “What?” Seungcheol spots his silence, “Was Mingyu unavailable?” he bends his head, trying to look at Jeonghan who had turned quiet, genuine concern etched on his face.

“How was Japan?” he whispers instead, not answering his question.

Seungcheol hesitated, deciding whether to let the question go or not. After a short deliberation, he sighs and tells him about Japan. “It was so much fun—but extremely cold, too.”

“I bet you just kept on complaining.” He accuses, hugging him close, kissing the shell of the others’ ear.

“Oh?” Seungcheol was caught off-guard, making him giggle. “Yeah, I did.” He admits. Jeonghan pulls back and stares at him intently.

“I want to kiss you.” He admits.

“Why are you asking for permission?” Seungcheol pulls him forward, pressing a tight kiss against his lips, coaxing a sigh to escape from him. It’s been too long since he felt his lips against his, and he missed it so much—he missed him, a lot. He kept giving short pecks, smiling against his lips before, pulling him impossibly close, biting Seungcheol’s lips to coax it open.

The innocent pecks had eventually escalated to tongues clashing, breaths hitching, and hands desperate, despite keeping a slow sway, carried by the bass of the speakers. He can feel eyes digging against his back—curious eyes who wonder how on earth the lanky, flat-ass, pretty boy landed the “silver-haired hottie”, getting him to make out on the dance floor. What Jeonghan didn’t express was the fact that ever since they both first slept with each other on the sophomore year of college, Seungcheol had become loyal to him, kissing no one else, humping no one else, sleeping with no one else, since then—despite the fact that Jeonghan has slept with others other than him.

But Seungcheol was like that—despite the fact that he had expressed the fact that he didn’t like to commit, he stayed anyway, humoring Jeonghan’s whims. One of his crass friends referred to Seungcheol as his exclusive hooker, someone he mostly just contacted to party and eventually for sex, who allowed Jeonghan to sleep with everybody else on the planet, while he remained monogamous. Some more sensitive ones have expressed their worry—not for Seungcheol, but for Jeonghan, them being sure that one of these days, he’s going to get tired and leave him.

He didn’t want to think about that most.

“Do you wanna…”

“Yeah.” Seungcheol nods fervently, pulling him out of the dance floor, muttering a quick goodbye towards his friends before rushing out the club with Jeonghan.

 

He didn’t know how long it took them to get there but all he knew was that they were furiously making out in the cab before he spotted his street and alighted with the equally hurried Jeonghan, who all but threw the wad of bills towards the driver in his hurry. But now he was pushed by Jeonghan against the wall, face buried and licking the skin on his neck, aggressive and unmerciful. “Jeonghan…” he whispered urgently. “Slow down.”

Jeonghan stops abruptly and holds onto his shirt, softly caressing it against his skin. “Sorry.” He exhales, leaning over to kiss him on the lips, still urgent, but exponentially slowed and gentler. “I just—” he stops, as in the words are stuck in his throat, and opts for silence, his lips back on his, pressing passionately, his hands clutching the skin on his waist, riding up close to his chest.

“Let’s move.” He nudges him, accidentally nudges his front, feeling the hard on that Jeonghan’s been sporting. He moans deep in his throat, dragging Seungcheol off to the bedroom his fallen in so many times before. Articles of clothing fall on the floor one by one, leaving a trail comparable to Hansel and Gretel’s bread crumbs, pointing to the end destination of the two, entirely naked, hot bodies.

Jeonghan falls first, and Seungcheol climbs over him, equally desperate for the others’ skin against his, having gone two weeks without even hearing his beautiful voice in his ears, without seeing his beautiful face, and kissing his soft lips—especially now might as well be the last. He stops his tears, and tries to make the most out of his last time.

 

Jeonghan sits up after he’s regained his breath, fumbling around for his boxers which apparently had been discarded by the door. He looks over at Seungcheol, busying with the blanket over his body. “Do you want a glass?”

“No.” he declines quietly, leaving Jeonghan to getting a glass of scotch for himself. When he came back, Seungcheol had picked up his shirt and had put it back on, his shirt hovering over his legs cutely. “What are you doing?” he asks, putting the glass on his bed side table as the other continuously looked for his boxers.

“Looking for my clothes.” He said simply, as if he isn’t acting weird and itching to run away after sex.

“Why?”

“Because I’m done here.” He replies, frustration evident on his tone. He finds his boxers underneath the bedside table, then rushed to wear it.

“You’re acting crazy, I never asked you to leave after….”

“After what, Jeonghan? After what? After you fuck me over?”

“What’s going on with you?”

Seungcheol stops himself, inhaling deeply then exhaling shakily. “I can’t do this anymore.”

Jeonghan froze—not quite registering his words. “What?”

“I mean I can’t do this anymore.” He said, this time firmly.

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t act dumb.” Seungcheol huffs. “Did you really think I will just keep on letting you fuck me while you fuck 70 others? Did you really think I was going to be okay with that forever?”

“No—but”

“You can live like this Jeonghan, yeah, but I can’t. I can’t and it’s killing me.” Seungcheol’s voice shake, his fingers visibly trembling. Jeonghan ached to reach out to him, his chest heavy and he’s out of breath despite not saying anything. “I can’t just keep letting you kill me.”

“Seungcheol, I—”

“I’m sorry if this was sudden.” He interrupts, massaging his temples, like he always does when he’s exhausted. “We’re still friends—if you want to be.” He nods, tears finally escaping from his tired eyes.

Jeonghan sat there frozen, unable to utter a single word, unable to even croak as Seungcheol walked out the door, closing it gently behind him.

 

That week, Jeonghan found himself outside Seungcheol’s door, hands suspended in the air before he stops himself from knocking, turning back and walking out of the building. Seungcheol was right—Jeonghan just can’t keep on being selfish, he can’t just keep him forever.

Choi Seungcheol was too good to last.

Jeonghan nurses his 5th glass of scotch, doing the cliché of trying to drown his thoughts in alcohol. Everything he is, is a fucking cliché. That night he spots a beautiful human being that looks scarily like Cheol and easily gets into bed with him, because that’s what he is: a cliché.

 

Jeonghan shoots awake as the events of last night come back to him. He turns to see an equally horrified Seungcheol, who immediately pieces things together and rushes around to pick up his clothes.

“Cheol, wait.”

“I can never be trusted on my own.” He mutters to himself.

“Cheol…”

“No.” he stands up straight, having worn his clothes back on. “This was a mistake, everything was hazy, I wasn’t thinking, and no, we cannot talk about this.” He says firmly. “I was doing so good.” He chastised himself. “I managed—”

He started frowning, exactly the frown that he makes when he’s about to cry. Jeonghan’s heart tightened, and his mind went onto overdrive. He kept arguing with himself—he’s had the words to so long now, and he couldn’t understand why he couldn’t just bring himself to say it.

Seungcheol took a step backward, making Jeonghan reach out abruptly to stop it. “Stay… please.” He whispered. “Don’t leave me, please.”

Seungcheol looks over at him, face unreadable. “Don’t do it.”

“Why not?” he challenged.

“I haven’t managed.” He admits, quietly walking over to him. With Jeonghan bent up and slouched, Seungcheol suddenly looks so much bigger when looking at their reflections. “I missed you… so much. I don’t know how I managed this long.”

“Please…” Seungcheol backs away once more. “Just let me go.”

“I love you, Cheol, please.” Seungcheol freezes, his face morphing into something that looked angry.

“Are you that desperate?” he croaked. “You’re telling me you love me so you can keep exploiting me?”

“Seungcheol, please, listen to me. I’m telling you the truth, I love you, I do.” Before Jeonghan can stop them, his tears had started falling. “You’ve been the only one for so long now. Please, don’t leave me.”

“How can you be in love with me?”

“I don’t know… I just do.”

“Then how can you still be sleeping with everything that moves?” his face was stony, Jeonghan had weakened, close to giving up.

“The last person I slept with that wasn’t you was Jisoo.”

“But we haven’t seen Jisoo in—”

“Three years, yeah.” Jeonghan nodded eagerly, and tried to reach out to Cheol’s hand. This time, he didn’t resist.

“Mingyu…?”

“Never.” He admitted. “He says it to make Wonwoo jealous and I’m letting him say it to make you jealous, but you just keep pushing me away.” He pouts.

He studies Seungcheol’s face intently—his was softening, but he obviously still wasn’t completely convinced. “You can ask Mingyu. Nothing ever happened, I promise. There has been no one else, no one, ever since you.”

“So when I went to Japan…”

“My longest drought.” He admits, making Cheol chuckle. “I really did miss you.”

“Well…” Seungcheol hesitates, attempting to pull his hand away from Jeonghan’s hold, but Jeonghan tightens his grip. “Stay with me, please.” He pleads quietly, caressing his thumb over Cheol’s. “I’m dead serious, Cheol, I wouldn’t know what to do if you left me again. So if there nothing you feel for me, then please tell me, I’ll let you go.”

Seungcheol stares at him incredulously. “Don’t be stupid.” He smiles. “Why else would I want to be the only one?”

Jeonghan’s lips are slowly tugged upwards into a tentative smile.

“You’ll stay?”

“Of course, I love you, flat-ass.” Seungcheol pulls him in into a deep kiss, before Jeonghan pulled away to complain. “Flat-ass?”

Seungcheol nods, smiling with all his gums, showing Jeonghan that all is alright. He’s staying.

**Author's Note:**

> i tried to write smut but i really am not good at it jsfnkjsdbkfjsz
> 
> *insert meme* THERE WAS AN ATTEMPT
> 
> Happy 1000th day to Seventeen!  
> Happy Seokmin Day!  
> Happy Hansol Day!
> 
> We have lots to celebrate today!
> 
> Prompt by @cscjeonghan formerly @jeongcheolwho at twitter
> 
> i'm sorry this suck  
> i'll edit my mistakes next time hehehehe


End file.
